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Despising You	By : Chillkat Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 24289 -:- Recommendations : 3 -:- Currently Reading : 4
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
The look on her face before the spell hit her was one of pure terror. What she thought he was going to do to her was beyond him. The mud-blood had to know he wasn’t going to sexually assault her, that wasn’t a reputation he ever let spread about him. Sex-god yes, rapist never, those were heinous crimes usually committed by Death Eaters who lacked anything better to do or the self-esteem in their own masculinity to find a willing woman. Either of which he had plenty of, so it went without saying he was rather insulted in her silent accusations. Although admittedly he gave her no real reason for her to trust him in any manner, he just figured that their hate for each other was silently agreed upon to be nothing more than cruel pranks, foul words, and occasional heated debates.
Once again thanking himself for knowing that sleep charm he let his scepter hide itself once more. Still leaning over her, he ran a hand through his hair and let his eyes settle on the now sleeping Gryffindor. Dark eyelashes were fanned across her slightly flushed cheeks while her massive mass of hair had somehow come loose from its braid earlier and was now fanned partially beneath her and beside her.
It was something he noticed when he would watch her at Hogwarts, her hair would always come undone from it's braid every night. In his opinion the girl had far too much hair for her to handle. Not that it wasn’t an improvement from the past few years: silkier instead of course puffiness, longer rather than mid range, and shinier instead of dull mousy brown it was just that there was so much of it.
Knowing there would be hell to pay if he lobbed most of it off during her vulnerable slumber he decided just to grit his teeth and face the consequences for putting the Gryffindor princess to sleep, he was going to have to touch it.
Sitting up beside her he put an arm underneath her back and lifted her torso upwards letting her head loll backwards slightly while exposing her neck to his eyes. Grabbing the hair with his free hand he swept it from beneath her and to her other side so it now hung off her side of the bed and not on his pillow.
The surprise he had as to how soft the mass of brown tresses were was rather immense he always figured it to be coarse and dry. Lowering her back down to the pillows he turned back over and lay down. Before shutting his eyes a thought crossed his mind. Mud-blood or not he wished Potter could see them now.
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Blinking a few times the Slytherin slowly woke up, his eyes widened when he focused on the object pointing directly in between his eyes mere inches from his face. The ruby of Granger's scepter was gleaming rather viciously, not too unlike the eyes of its owner. Some say that sorceresses embody chaos themselves, and he believed it looking at her now; her face was beyond angry and her hair was hanging wildly around her as she pointed the scepter with deadly accuracy.
"What did you do to me?" a slight echo could be heard in her voice, this was surely the first sign for Draco to start worrying.
Starting to sit up to explain and maybe summon his scepter for a little added defense, he felt the heated touch of the pulsating scepter against his brow. Sighing he remained still, seeing that he wasn’t going to get the chance to make a move in his defense.
"All I did was put you to sleep so that I could sleep. I couldn't fall asleep with you lying there awake." As if that was all he needed to say to explain himself.
"Why the hell not? Better yet I don't want to know, because I simply do not care about what you can or cannot do." Leaning down closer she continued, "Let me say this once Draco Malfoy if that ever happens again I am going to show you exactly why they call me the smartest witch of our time. I hope I have made myself perfectly clear." Turning she walked out of the room leaving the Slytherin to seethe in anger like she knew he was. With every syllable of her words she watched his eyes start to grow darker with rage. However, he also knew that she had the advantage by far and would have decimated him before he could move.
After getting dressed in the bathroom she walked into the kitchen and looked into the refrigerator. All they had was a small section of bread, a little butter, enough milk for two cups, and some fruit she picked. Taking out the fruit and bread she began to make toast with cut fruit while making some coffee.
The smell of coffee greeted him when he walked out of the bedroom dressed, but his anger flared right back up when he saw that bitch. The temptation to turn that bitch around and slam her into the refrigerator and show her exactly who the hell she was threatening a moment ago was so damn strong it made his hands shake. Stomping up behind her until she had barely enough room to turn around he whispered into her ear.
"I hope your arse doesn't need saving today in practice because you’re out of luck." The shiver that ran down her body made him smirk.
"Look here you bas..." Turning around she still held the knife in her hand without even thinking of what that may look like to him.
Catching the glint of the blade he quickly grabbed the hand that was holding it and turned it so that it was facing down and slammed it into the wooden counter.
Stunned she looked at her hand that was still holding the knife, which was now sunk deeply into the counter.
"Be careful where you point it next time." His harsh growl left her paralyzed to the spot she was standing in as he sat down in the chair across from her. Turning around she continued cutting the fruit. She wanted to cry so badly, but she wouldn't let herself not with him sitting behind her. They were never going to get along, this whole ordeal was useless and a waste of time.
Even though he was sitting behind her Draco wasn't really looking at her. Staring out the window near the stove he watched the trees sway in the breeze. Utterly useless was what this damn training was, how much proof and evidence did those bastards need for them to realize that Granger and himself hated each other. There would be no partnership, no team effort, just nothing.
Finishing the fruit she put them on a plate with the toast and set it in front of him with his coffee and left. Walking into the bedroom she closed the door, falling onto the bed she let her tears fall freely.
Chewing his toast with little appetite, even though it was perfectly buttered and toasted to a golden hue, he let his nose take in the scent of salt. Dropping his toast he followed the scent to the bedroom door. Turning his head slightly he listened to her sobs, they weren't just regular tears either, they were hard making her hitch every now and then. Instead of the feeling of cruel gloating as he expected to feel his hand started burning instead.
"Great just great." Opening the door quietly as possible he watched her cry into her pillow. Closing it silently he walked to the living room. How the hell was he supposed to handle this? Ignoring it seemed like the standard option, but it didn't seem all that right. Even though he wasn't even sure why she was crying they have had worse fights than that, and he didn't even call her anything hurtful, but the burning coming from his damn ring told him whatever it was he fucked up.
Looking at his watch he let out a small oath and ran outside.
"Your late.” Turning from the porch towards the scratchy monotone voice Draco stared into the stark gray eyes of his professor. As always the bastard stood in his same spot in the clearing in front of the house.
“Yeah I gathered that.” Stepping down from the step he walked to the usual position when facing off against the professor, but this time it seemed he would be fighting alone.
“Where is Miss Granger?” Plympton’s already skeptical eyes narrowed even more so as he stared at the warlock.
“She isn’t going to make this practice.” Draco let his eyes take another glance towards the house before he locked his gaze back on to his opponent.
“Why not Mr. Malfoy? Did something happen to her? Or should I say did you do something to her Mr. Malfoy?” It was as if the man was laughing at him underneath his words, goading him on to provoke him or something.
“Look you bastard I have no idea what’s wrong with her, so today it seems like its just you and me so do your best to get over it.”
“Very well Mr. Malfoy since you insist. I will give you the practice that I would have given both of you. Prepare yourself boy.”
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Sitting up she wiped the tears from her face and looked around feeling a little ashamed she cried like that. Although she let out all her frustrations Hermione still wasn’t sure about anything, confusion was still settled deep into her heart about this whole ordeal.
Looking at her watch her eyes grew wide at the notice of the time, she was late for practice. Running out of her room she noticed Malfoy wasn’t in the house, hurrying to the door she flung it open expecting to see Malfoy and Plympton waiting for her or something, but not what was before her now.
Beams of multicolored lights were being hurled across the clearing like a mad ping pong tournament. On her left was Malfoy holding a shield spell with his left hand and hurling curses and spells with his scepter in his other hand all the while he cursed and snarled most likely about the man before him.
To her right was said man Mr. Plympton, just as Malfoy he was holding a reflecting spell on his wand allowing him to bounce nearly spell off his wand like a tennis player while also summoning and firing his incantations, the technique showed years of experience and surprising agility. Even though Malfoy looked to be getting more hits in Plympton’s was fluid and precise. Despite that however, it still boiled down to one apparent fact, they were fighting not practicing.
Letting her fingers glide across her necklace she summoned her scepter, pointing it in the middle of the fight from her position on the porch she mumbled her spell.
Like a snake her magic glided to each opponent and wrapped around them forming a box around them, neutralizing the spells that shot off within it. Jadedly she watched their faces settle with confusion before noticing her standing there.
Walking down the steps she went stood in the middle of them. “Why on earth were you both fighting,” turning to face Mr. Plympton she had one hand on her hip and the other holding her scepter, which was still holding the spell. “and please don’t tell me that was practice Mr. Plympton because I know a fight when I see one?”
“Aaah Miss Granger there you are, I had my doubts about your well being when Mr. Malfoy said you wouldn’t be at practice. Knowing what type of student you are I knew you wouldn’t just skip my mandatory practice without good reason.” It was as if she didn’t even have him under her control, Hermione still blushed shamefully at her tardiness while his cool voice and vapid features bore a hole into her conscious.
Knowing he wasn’t going to answer the question she turned around and released Malfoy from his spell and stood next to him. “I am not sure how Draco feels but I for one am tired of fighting with you, we are here to learn to control our new powers and to be able to blend in with society, and fighting with you isn’t really teaching us all that much. So instead of wasting our time I suggest you start really teaching us from now on.”
An odd feeling swept through Draco as he watched Hermione come stand next to him after releasing him from the spell. At his side she stood with him against the professor even after what happened earlier that morning, it was becoming a mind-numbing task to try and understand the girl beside him.
Looking towards the professor who still had the containment spell around him Draco pointed his scepter and gave off his classic smirk. “On that note, if you decide to continue wasting our time I will have no choice but to think that you plan to keep us as hostages here and that professor will force me to retaliate in the up most violent manner. Meaning professor--I will show you exactly what you fear about a warlock if you try.”
A little disturbed by Draco’s malevolent agreement with her statement she released the professor. With a small smirk the professor brushed off his cloak and looked at his students.
“Now you see. Teamwork will get you both farther than fighting. Lets begin shall we.”
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Sighing in a mixture of relief and exhaustion she watched as the professor apparated away before turning towards the house.
Unusual could describe Draco’s current state of emotions, however it just might not do it justice, more like uncomfortable, odd, and annoying. Yes, those were the range of emotions going through him. Uncomfortable that she defended him against fuck-head Plympton, odd because she actually did it, and unusual because she just walked away saying nothing to him.
No gloating, rubbing the situation in his face, not one single emotion. Watching her come back out of the house with her basket, jacket, camera, and key, which she was now locking the door with, she didn’t have her usual optimistic expression or thinking-scowl on her face.
Just void, a tired void at that, as if she was broken or has given up on something. That is where the annoyance set in which was starting to trickle to anger. Why the hell was she not fighting with him? An argument was past due after the morning’s events, but yet he received nothing, just her blank face. Was she already giving up, was her spirit broken so easily? Dear Merlin it couldn’t be! Admitting it was so very painful but Draco had to, he needed Hermione Granger.
The one invariable in his life, the anchor he loathed but relied on nonetheless. When all else was falling apart Draco knew that Hermione was always there to rile him up to give him that instant passion for life again, even if it was making her life hell. But now looking at her face somewhere deep inside he felt a tiny stab of guilt, all the while he was reclaiming zest for life he was torturing hers. Thankfully, that feeling was tiny enough for him to ignore.
Staring thoughtfully into the sky he decided to test his theory before he put too much thought into it. Waiting for her to reach him at the path he began walking nonchalantly while she followed silently.
“I just want you to know Princess, I have no intention of giving you my share of the money for the market today or ever actually, so don’t get your hopes up.”
He could hear her foot steps stop suddenly, smirking he turned and readied his lips for a comeback to her inevitable argument.
Hermione felt like slapping him, the money she had would barely get her all the necessities they needed. Stopping their walk she intended to give the prick a piece of her mind, but seeing him turn towards her with that familiar glint in her eye she gave up. It would be the same routine they have played time and time again, arguing until both either tired of it or until one stumped the other with a witty quip and the latter option took far too long.
Hermione was beginning to think the git liked to argue with her by the sparkle of anticipation in his eyes and the smirk set on his lips. Although, this time she wouldn’t play along she was tired of arguing, she was tired of fighting, to put it simply she was just plain tired of him.
The circumstances they were in right now however prevented her from leaving him, so from this moment forth she was going to follow the advice she gave Harry and Ron so many times before, she was going to ignore Draco Malfoy as best as possible.
Like a candle cut of from the surrounding air, the familiar Gryffindor fire in her eyes lost all luster. It was earth shattering, giving proof to his theory she was broken.
“Whatever, do what you want.” With that said she continued walking past him.
Rage made his arm shoot out to grab her, anger brought him to turn her so fast Draco was sure he caused whiplash causing her basket to nearly fall from her grasp. Desperation is what caused him to look down on her shocked face and ask her without words what the hell was going on. But he did so nonetheless.
“What the bloody hell is your problem? You sick or something?” Whatever it was he wanted it gone, now! All these changes happening in his life was driving him insane, he couldn’t lose this one too.
The storm in his eyes was at an all time high, revealing his obvious hate for the situation. Her hunch was right, Draco liked arguing with her, and probably the only time the words “like, Draco, and herself” would ever come together to form a sentence. Instead of giving him what he wanted she gently laid her hand on his, which was latched to her upper arm, like a mother to a child she easily pushed his arm away. “Draco let me ask you this, do you enjoy fighting with me? I mean really enjoy it?”
What the hell was she implying? Stepping back he gave her a look that dared her to continue that implication.
“Well then if not, stop trying to invoke one all the time. I am tired of fighting and quite frankly I am tired of you as you are of me. So lets agree to just stay out of each others way.” Giving him a tired smile she walked away leaving him to follow along slowly, simmering in his rage.
Outwardly he watched her silently as she bargained with each person at the market. However inwardly he was an inferno of fury, how dare she just call off their pact? A pact they both agreed to silently through their thunderous arguments years ago. “To always hate each other and to argue smartly and raucously forever and always.” Pathetic and maybe even a little tragic but curse the ground that bitch walked on he wanted to stick to that agreement.
Trying to remember everything they needed, get a good deal from the vendors, and figure out her expenses all the while dealing with Malfoy’s obvious attitude was exceedingly difficult. Somehow he was making her decision which was intended to rid herself of his added stress in her life was making her more stressful.
Not only was it stressing her, the git was somehow making her feel bad about it. Although feeling bad about not getting into a row with the mad fool was completely crazy, she felt sorry for him because he actually enjoyed fighting with her.
Now that she thought about it she never really seen him do much of anything when he conversed with his own friends; the occasional bragging which wasn’t as much compared to his younger years, normal quidditch talk, laughing at dirty crude Slytherin jokes, or arguing amongst his peers. Though he seemed to only argue with Blaise within his circle of friends, to the others he just growled out commands.
Arguments with Blaise however were nothing like the rows he would get into with her, Blaise’s were actual intelligent debates not mindless heated bickering like theirs. Maybe it was boredom, anger over their situation, or anger on whatever happened over the summer to which Mr. Plympton eluded to days earlier. Then again it could just be that Malfoy was an evil prat who liked torturing her. Well whatever it was she refused for him to get to her anymore.
The walk home was extremely uncomfortable having to do with the fact that she was carrying all the food and supplies in her full arms while she tried to keep up with his pace or that he has yet to speak a word to her. When she meet back up with him to leave the village he just gave her his stoic face. It felt rather odd to have the tables turned so quickly on her.
Unlocking the door he opened it wide enough so Granger could pass through, ignoring her mumbled thanks he closed the door. Quietly he went about starting the fires in each room, making sure to start the bathroom furnace as well. A blazing hot shower was something he looked forward to every night of his life, he be damned if he was greeted with tepid water. Walking back to the living room he flopped down to the couch and let his eyes drift to the fire while he was serenaded by the sounds of Granger putting up her purchases and cooking.
While preparing the pasta she couldn't stop herself from taking a peek to her right into the living room to catch a glimpse of the Slytherin. For nearly twenty minutes he had been sitting on that couch unmoving and silent. With each passing minute her anxiety went up a notch. Dear Merlin did the prospect of no more arguments put the Slytherin in a catatonic state. Merlin forbid the prat not getting what he wants. Though she had to admit she was beginning to worry.
Taking out the now golden brown rolls she sat them on the counter and began to lightly butter them so they glistened deliciously. Deciding that the pasta should cook for a few more seconds she grabbed a napkin and placed one of the rolls in it.
Walking over to the living room she neared the couch, immediately upon her arrival she noticed the direction of his intense gaze and the results of it. With every inhalation the fire grew only to die down a little with his exhale. Hermione wondered if he even realized he was doing this.
Putting her hand with the roll out she let it pass over his shoulder and hover a little below the side of his face.
"The pasta is going to take a few minutes, I thought you might like a roll until then." Holding her breath, they both held their positions unmoving, just when she thought he wasn't going to take it his head moved slightly and looked at it. By this time she was sure she was going to pass out from not breathing as he eyed the roll with an emotionless visage. Long strong fingers slowly grabbed the napkin. Letting out her breath she turned back around towards the kitchen.
Glancing over her shoulder she watched him slowly tear at the roll at eat it idly. Oh Merlin why was she starting to feel bad about not wanting to argue, why the hell was she feeling sorry for the bastard in the first place, and why was he acting like this? Now she was starting to feel like arguing, if it meant for him to stop acting like this.
Serving the pasta and the rest of the rolls she looked up to call him over, though the moment she was about to open her mouth he got up and walked around the couch towards the table and sat down, leaving her a little bewildered.
Not that she expected the dinner to be filled with raucous laughter or even conversation she just didn’t expect such loud obvious silence. It made her realize how comfortable she has gotten having dinner with her mates at school, family, or on the cheering team; this silence just let her realized how much she missed her friends.
Relief washed over her when she noticed him get up and put his dishes away with a spell and without a word went to the bathroom. Well she could only trust her food was good. Ungrateful lout! Doing the same with her dishes she cleaned the rest of the kitchen and put up the leftover stew. Walking to the bedroom she began to gather her bathing supplies.
After setting her supplies on her side of the bed she turned and walked towards the chair that sat near the window. The chair, just as the rest of the furniture in the house, was faded and unpaired. It was a classic wingback chair with a brown paisley design against a burgundy background, at one time perhaps it might have been quite a decent looking chair but time wasn’t that forgiving for the misplaced piece.
Looking around that side of the room she realized that she had never been on this side of the room for anything but to her dresser, which happened to be lined up against the wall with Malfoy’s and her trunk which was by her dresser. Sinking into the chair she let her legs hang over the side of the arm, letting the chair cradle her as she stared out the window beside it. Thoughtless, her mind was virtually thoughtless as she stared out the thick diamond paned window. Every thought seemed to have already been thought of for today, her mind and body was just tired now.
With each blink of her eyes, sleep swiftly crept up on her until finally claiming her as the moon sparkled above.
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In his pajama pants Draco opened the bathroom door allowing the steam to dissipate into the darkness of the living room and kitchen. With his towel hanging from his neck he walked into the bedroom expecting to be greeted by Granger’s irritating and newly silent presence.
A sleeping Gryffindor however, was far from expected though. Just as before at Hogwarts his attention was drawn to her sleeping form. It was captivating to watch her sleep, before he dismissed it with extreme boredom and curiosity to one’s enemy, though now it seemed to be something different—something primal.
Throwing the towel on the footboard of the bed he walked stealthily across the creaking wood floors of their room. Stopping inches from her chair Draco let the sounds of her breathing fill his mind. What the hell was this? The urge to grab the sides of the chair and lower himself inches above her sleeping face was so strong his body twitched with anticipation.
Manually Draco had to stop the signals from his brain from telling his body to act on its’ own base cravings. Releasing a deep frustrated growl at his mutinous body, Draco was surprised and a little disappointed to notice her awakening.
Stepping back he allowed her sleepy vision to focus on the person in front of her. Confusion was her first perceptible emotion that eased rather quickly to the expected Granger like emotion—suspicion.
Carefully she swung her legs from the chair's arm and stood before him, giving him a quizzical gaze she walked passed him to retrieve her toiletries off the bed and left the room.
Throwing his towel on his dresser he laid down on the bed while he watched the flames of the fire dance to the silence of the room. The idea of him just packing his trunk and leaving this bloody house was tempting. Though as tempting as that sounded he couldn't do it.
That was one of the various stipulations he agreed to when he was informed about this training. Besides being in debt to the Headmaster, and for his mother he had nowhere else to go. The money he already had in his account at Gringotts would deplete fast and he couldn't take his mother’s, since his bastard of a father froze their accounts. So with those options all he could do was wait.
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Stepping into the shower Hermione let the hot water run down her face. Dear Merlin she felt him! She remembered drifting asleep looking out the window, but then her mind and body started to pulse with that familiar feeling that her scepter gave her when something was happening with the git. Though as soon as she opened her eyes the feeling disappeared leaving her to stare directly into his silver gaze.
After she dried herself off and dressed she mentally scolded herself for forgetting to bring a candle with her to find her way back out. Opening the door she was relieved to find that the bedroom door was still ajar allowing the orange glow of the fire to help light her way back.
Silently she squeezed herself through the open door, trying not to provoke the squeaky hinges. The last thing she wanted to do was wake the Slytherin up, the last time she did that she woke up with a serious headache which lead to a serious punishment on both their parts.
Without even sparing a glance at the bed she padded over to her dresser and quietly put her things away. Reaching out to put her lotion back on the dresser she noticed her shadow. Up and down, up and down; why was her shadow moving so much. Sure fire was known to do crazy things to the shadows in a room but dear heavens this was ridiculous, her shadow would grow to the ceiling and come back down again.
Turning around she received her answer. Lying with his arms behind his head, with nothing but a pair of pajama pants Malfoy's gaze was locked on the flames in the hearth. Just as before the flames grew and died with each intake and output of breathe.
Saying something could knock him out of the trance he was in, but then again she wasn't sure if he was even in a trance. No this time she was just going to ignore him, she didn't care what he did all she was sure of was that if she left him alone there could be no confrontation, and that meant no punishment.
Setting her nerves to steal she slipped in beside him, doing her best to appear like the situation didn't weird her out, though her body was as stiff as a board. But if he noticed her rigid movements he said and did nothing.
Yawning into her pillow she wondered what horrors tomorrow would bring.
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Without even turning to his side Draco could feel her eyes close gently, allowing her body to relax into slumber. Minutes passed by leisurely as her breathing slowed down to the point of deep sleep. Accepting his cue, Draco turned to face her, observing her annoying filthy features.
The heart shaped faced that was constantly shrouded in russet curls, dark eyebrows that arched delicately and naturally. Almond shaped eyes that were tenderly closed allowing her curly lashes to lie softly on the round of her freckled cheeks. There could be no attraction to this woman for that he was resolute. Despite that thought however he was drawn to her sleeping figure like a moth to a flame.
Consuming him, that was what the witch was doing. Taking a hold of his very soul for some reason unknown to him. Yet she did this in her most subconscious state. How dare she try and wield such power over him. Pushing himself closer to her he didn’t stop until he could feel her breath slightly tickle his lips.
There was no indication for this perplexing act but he found himself doing it nonetheless. Gradually his breathing combined with hers until they were breathing in tune. Looking at her mouth his mind started to fog over. His breathing became harder and harder, eventually reversing their breathing so that now she was exhaling when he was inhaling.
A rushing feeling of warmth spread through his body like warm intoxication, while giving him a feeling of immense anticipation. Doing his best to focus past the euphoric feeling he was receiving he spared a glance back at his enemy's mouth. White a blue swirls of energy was quickly being sucked from her slightly parted mouth into his.
Widening his eyes in shock he looked back at her face again, the rosy color she had seconds ago was gone, leaving her as pale as he was. Again he had to stop the functions of his brain and body manually, finally stopping his breathing enough to roll away. Every inch away from her made his body feel as if it was on fire, like he was hurting himself doing it, everything in his mind, body, and soul told him to finish what he started.
Pushing himself to his feet he grasped the wall for support, the feeling of ice running through his blood while fire rolled off his skin made his whole body convulse. Halfway leaning against the wall Draco tried to focus on the situation reasonably. He nearly killed Granger! Looking back towards her again the hum of irresistible conquest filled his soul once more.
He needed out of this house, before something worse happened, tearing out of the room through the living room he didn’t stop his shaky run until he was nearly at the cliff’s edge.
Dear Merlin what did he do back there? Where did this horrid feeling come from? This desire for complete subjugation of his enemy Granger, sure the thought of her falling into the Black Lake has popped into his mind, but for her to die by his very own hand--absurd. Or so he thought that was how he felt.
“So I see you have finally discover the more trickier side of your change.” Cool, uncaring, observant, and patronizing Draco didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. No, he just continued to kneel in the dirt facing the night blackened sea hoping answers would surface from the white foam below him.
“This once I will ignore your rudeness boy and tell you what you need to know, because it’s just not about you and me now its Granger’s life as well.” Plympton was sure Snape would be amazed if he saw how the boy kneeling before him reacted when he heard those words. Never before has a Malfoy felt such guilt and confusion on hurting a muggleborn, their heads would not sink lower into the chest nor would there body tense with such shame.
“I will make this brief boy, you are a warlock and you will find that warlock’s have the ability to posses all the skills of an incubus.” Draco’s head shot up allowing him to turn around and stare into the cold eyes of his professor as he continued.
“Incubus feed on the souls of sleeping women, by doing exactly what you did, breathing in their life force—their soul. Now tell me do you still feel a churning cold feeling in the pit of your stomach?” A nod was all he received from the white haired Slytherin. “Good if that feeling his still cold you're ok but if it gets hot that means it will disperse through your body allowing you to successfully absorb it. Go back inside and I want you to put aside any feelings for that girl and simply release that feeling that’s in your gut back into her.”
Quickly he got up and headed for the house before stopping and turning back towards the fair haired professor he looked him directly in the eyes making sure his dark green orbs clashed with his gray ones.
“One thing you bastard,” If Draco wasn’t so concerned about the feeling in his gut he would laugh at the flash of indignation that passed through the man’s eyes. “If you knew this about me why in the hell would you not tell me and then put us in the same bed? I am starting to think you want us to kill each other so the ministry wouldn’t have to deal with us.”
A smile was something Draco was honestly not prepared to see as a reaction from the professor. “What happens or what does not happen here Mr. Malfoy is up to the both of you. In this little world of yours the both of you shape your own fate. You must remember boy, that this is a learning experience so if I were to simply just tell you the answers there would be no great lesson taught. Oh and let me assure you the Ministry has no intention to let the two of you die.” With those last words the git left. Draco wanted to go over what the bastard said but the churning feeling in his stomach reminded him of more urgent matters.
Running back into the house he rushed to Granger’s side of the bed. Turning her over he kneeled one knee on to the bed as tried to think. Dear Merlin that bastard didn’t tell him exactly how he was supposed to do this. Pale and nearly lifeless the body of his enemy was lying in front of him breathing extremely shallow. Grabbing her shoulders he brought himself inches from her, doing his best to replicate before—but nothing happened.
“Damn it woman! This is your entire fault I am sure. We were fine the night before but you went and made changes today and pissed me the fuck off.” By now his grip on her shoulders was painful but neither one noticed. His hair hung down haphazardly around his face and slightly into hers while his eyes were dancing with frustration and anger. “How dare you change the way things are done? You brought this on yourself you bitch!” 8Ding8 Groaning he released her from his grip and turned away from her. If he kept that up they would be here another month. Suddenly the feeling in his stomach started to warm. Oh God!
Fear shot like a knife through his heart as he looked down at her again, slowly he could see remaining life fade away with each passing second. Never in Draco’s life did he intend on killing her, in a perverse way he rather enjoyed their debates and rows of hate towards one another.
One more time he grabbed her shoulders and cradled her head with his hand to bring her face towards him. “Dammit Hermione I like fighting with you so you better wake up and take what I have got to give.” In and out, in and out just as before their breathing fused together before reversing one last time as he breathed out she breathed in, taking the feeling in his stomach with her again. Color once gone flowed back over her giving back a healthy look.
Putting her back onto her pillow he sat back against the footboard with a sigh of relief. After a few moments he got up and went to his side of the bed and laid down. Not sure what would happen he decided it best if he faced the wall instead of her. Taking a deep breath he wondered what in Merlin’s name would tomorrow have in store for them.
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